


Intertwined

by durinsprinces



Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Canonical Character Death, M/M, Pretty sad, kinda cute
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-08
Updated: 2016-05-08
Packaged: 2018-06-07 02:23:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,116
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6781567
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/durinsprinces/pseuds/durinsprinces
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A tale of two trees planted for two brothers.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Intertwined

**Author's Note:**

> slides into home at the last minute possible it's still 11:59pm here ok listen this counts.  
> for #34 two trees growing together in a front yard. 
> 
> watch out this one is p sad.

On Fíli’s first naming day, Víli planted a tree in his son’s honor. A tiny oak that would one day grow and take root alongside those of the mountain. With great care the tree grew, and so did his tiny family. On Kíli’s naming day, with Fíli barely old enough to hold the tiny trowel, Vili planted another tree alongside Fíli’s. Far enough away so it wouldn’t be overshadowed by the tree already growing towards the sun, shooting up a little every day just like his own child, but close enough that when the new tree started to grow, their roots would become tangled together into one.

* * *

 

Fíli barely remembers planting the tree with his father, though he wishes he could. His memories of Víli are few and far between, but out of all of them, he tries to remember this one the most.  

Kíli remembers nothing, too young to have ever gotten the chance to know his own father.

* * *

 

The task of taking care of the trees, like many things, falls on Thorin and Fíli’s shoulders, while Kíli kicks and screams and never seems to stop. And for the first several years of his life he doesn’t. He’s sick often, and the only time he is ever truly quiet is when he’s in bed alongside Fíli, his tiny fingers tangled in golden hair while he sleeps fitfully.

Kíli is gangly and thin, his nose perpetually running and his face flush with fever. And just like his little brother, the tiny tree seemed to be sickly too. Leaves would never grow on the little branches that stuck out from the trunk and Fíli couldn’t be sure if the tree was even alive anymore at all, most of the time.

So Fíli takes it upon himself to make sure they both grow up strong and healthy.

* * *

 

It takes another two tiring years for Kíli to grow out of his unrelenting illnesses, only suffering every now and then from the common ailments the rest of their village suffered from in the winter months. And in the spring, when the sun began to shine down once more and the snow melted off the dirt, Fíli watches as Kíli’s tree began to grow tiny buds of leaves with great excitement.

Every day he takes Kíli outside, bundled up far more than necessary. Dís constantly worried that Kíli would relapse into his fevers and would dress him warmly up until the first signs of summer.

It’s just turning mid spring when the leaves begin to unfurl and open up for the sun to beat down on them and Fíli holds Kíli in his lap, enjoying the warmth of the afternoon.

“Kee,” he whispers against Kíli’s ear, catching his attention without startling him out of his fascination with the beaded bracelet around Fíli’s wrist. “Look at your tree. It’s growing strong like you are now.”

Kíli looks up from Fíli’s wrist, the sapling hardly anything to be proud of. His eyes flick towards Fíli’s tree, now bigger than his older brother, standing tall and proud in watch over their home.

“I don’t think it will ever be as good as your tree, Fee.”

Fíli frowns and opens his mouth to speak, but their mother’s voice breaks through his thoughts, summoning them back inside and Fíli knows better than to defy his mother.

* * *

 

Kíli’s tree doesn’t grow as quickly as Fíli’s. It’s branches are sparse with leaves. Where Fíli’s are full and green and noble, Kíli’s branches are thin and mostly bare, leaving patches of filtering sunlight over the ground.

At first Kíli feels something almost akin to jealousy at how Fíli’s tree grows. But when the wildflowers begin to spring up under his own, finding warmth in the little patches of sun beneath his tree, Kíli can hardly be envious of Fíli’s tree that only ever grows mushrooms around it.

* * *

 

Fíli’s first major injury comes in the form of falling out of his own tree after chasing Kíli up there during one of their many games. Kíli, always sure footed and light, had scaled the tree up to the top with ease, now tall enough to see over their home. Fíli tries to follow him like he always had, but the branch he chooses to step on halfway up snaps beneath his weight and Fíli plummets like a stone to the ground below.

Kíli never thought a noise like that could ever come from his brother.

For a long time after Fíli’s fall, Kíli vehemently refused to climb the trees or even go outside. Even when their mother had told Kíli about the nest of baby birds she saw in Fíli’s tree over supper around Fíli’s bed.

He would stay inside and make sure Fíli got better and stronger.

Just like Fíli had done for him when he was sick.  

* * *

 

When Fíli is able to walk again, Oín declaring his ankle healed and brand new, the first place he wants to go is outside to see their trees. Autumn had swept over Ered Luin while Fíli was bedridden and he was sure he was going to end up missing the entire season, only able to see a sliver of the yard from the window in his room.

Kíli accompanies him outside. In the past season Kíli was rarely away from his side for more than necessary, even more so than he had been his whole life. Fíli often teases him that he earned himself a second shadow for his accident, and what Dwarrow could boast that they had two?

The leaves on the trees were already blazing like fire, reds and oranges mixing with tinges of gold. Fíli always found their trees the most beautiful this time of year.

Kíli flits nervously around him, ready to lend a helping hand if his brother needs it. Fíli sits down in the shade against the trunk of Kíli’s tree and Kíli immediately plops down next to him, his shoulder brushing up against his brother’s.

“You know I am not going to just disappear. You don’t have to cling to me like moss.” Fíli smiles down at Kíli. It fades away at the look on his little brother’s face.

“I thought you were going to die,” Kíli whispers, nearly silent as the wind tries to carry it away. “I thought I was going to climb down from the tree and you would be dead. And I would never ever get to see you ever again,” he bites his lip and his voice breaks, “just like Adad.”

Kíli’s eyes become filled with tears, trying in vain to keep himself from crying as he confides his fears in Fíli.

Fíli makes a tiny hush, slinging his arm around Kíli’s slender shoulders and soothing him. “I’ll always be here, Nadadith. I’m not going to die and leave you alone. I’ll never leave you. I promise.”

Kíli sniffles and leans into Fíli, letting him pet his hair out of his face and barely even puts up a fight when Fíli wipes off his nose on his sleeve.

* * *

 

Kíli gets his first bow on his twentieth Naming Day. The gift a heavy price for Thorin to have paid, but worth every gold and silver coin he spent.

Kíli runs around with the bow, eager to learn a new set of skills and Fíli swears to Mahal Kíli is going to take someone’s eye out, or his own, with his quiver of arrows flying everywhere around the house.

While Thorin is away, Fíli draws targets on parchment with bright red ink made from sweet berries. Fíli smiles fondly at the memory of slapping Kíli’s hand away when it would always end up poised at his mouth, ready to lick the ink from his fingers.

Fíli brings the target down to his tree, nailing it quickly to the trunk and pulling Kíli a decent distance away from it.

“I’ve learned a little archery from Thorin, and I don’t think he will mind if I pass what I know onto you before he gets the chance. He will probably be eternally grateful that he won’t have to watch you fidget and grow bored while he explains the basics, Kíli, please pay attention Nadadith.”

His patience with his little brother pays off, and Kíli manages to hit the outer ring of the target by the time the sun begins to set.

* * *

 

The summer always brings more wildflowers to their home than Fíli and Kíli know what to do with. Vases overflow in their home and their mother uses them in various perfumes and soaps that she takes to sell in the market.

It’s a hot summer afternoon that Fíli coaxes Kíli to sit between his legs, leaning his bare back up against Fíli’s naked chest. Their skin slides slick over each other’s, damp with sweat from the heat of the sun. Kíli continues to read his book as Fíli plucks the wildflowers from around his sides, his own back leaning against Kíli’s tree.

Kíli nearly drops his book when Fíli picks up a lock of his hair and begins to braid it slowly around the stem of a beautiful golden flower.

“Fee!” Kíli scrambles to pull away and Fíli wraps an arm around his waist and tugs him back.

“Just go back to reading, Nadadith,” Fíli smiles down at him, starting the braid over.

“You know Thorin will give you a tongue lashing from here until Durin’s Day if he sees you braiding my hair,” Kíli scolds Fíli, though he doesn’t make any more move to pull away. The gentle tugs of Fíli’s hands as he works are soothing to him and he can no longer concentrate on reading, though he pretends anyways.

“Thorin is out riding to the Southfarthing, Kíli,” Fíli reminds Kíli with a bit of exasperation lacing his tone, “Amad only told us about a hundred times over.”

Kíli blushes and looks down at his book. “Oh, that’s right.” He remains quiet as Fíli works more flowers into his hair, enough that Kíli can smell their sweet fragrance now. His hand reaches up to touch the braid and Fíli slaps it away.

“I’m not finished with this one yet.”

It takes him a while, but Fíli eventually moves on to the other side, braiding in gold and white wildflowers into Kíli’s soft, thin hair.

When he’s finished, he smiles down at his brother and kisses the top of his head. Kíli doesn’t make a move to reach up and touch them now, not wanting to ruin the hard effort Fíli had put into them.

They spend the rest of the afternoon out in the shade of the trees, talking about everything and nothing all at once.

When the sun begins to fall beyond the horizon, Fíli moves to stand up. He bites his lip a little and glances away from Kíli. He clears his throat, reaches a hand up to scratch at his growing beard. “You should probably take those out before we go home. Amad probably won’t like us wasting wildflowers. You know how she can get, sometimes.”

Kíli wrinkles his nose a little, but does as he’s told.

Fíli is already turning away and walking back to the house when Kíli reaches up to undo the braids. And if his fingers trace along the unmistakable pattern of courting braids, Kíli fervently thinks nothing of it. Fíli must have just used the first braid his hands could remember.

And Kíli certainly doesn’t tell Fíli about the two flowers he presses inside his book.

* * *

 

Their first kiss is under Fíli’s tree.

Their first fight under both.

They coincide together, as Fíli pushes Kíli up against the bark of his own tree, his hair almost blending in with the trunk. His lips find Kíli’s in the fever heat of late summer, hotter than the sun could ever be. It’s dusk, only the last light of the sun to see by as Fíli’s hands find Kíli’s hips, pulling Kíli’s body flush against his own.

Hands find Fíli’s shoulders and instead of the feeling of being pulled close, Fíli finds himself being pushed back with so much force he falls against the dirt.

Kíli pants above him, his eyes wild in the twilight.

“Fíli we can’t,” he breathes out. His face is red as he tries to settle the rapid beating of his heart in his chest.

Fíli feels repulsion and shame at himself well up from his stomach and squeeze at his throat. “Mahal, Kee. I’m so sorry.”

Kíli balls his hands into fists at his side. “Please, Fíli, don’t.”

“I’m so sorry, Kíli. I don’t know what came over me. I would never… I don’t ever want to hurt you. I’ll leave right now. I’ll go to Thorin’s. You won’t have to see—“

“Fíli, don’t. Just—” Kíli’s hands clench even tighter as he stalks over to Fíli. Fíli can’t quite make out the look on Kíli’s face. It looks like anger, but nothing like the anger usually written on his little brother’s face.  

“You can hit me, Kíli. I won’t blame you, I deserve it.”

Kíli places his feet over either side of Fíli’s hips. “Fíli we can’t do this,” he tells him as he slowly sinks down into Fíli’s lap. His hands tangle in the fabric of Fíli’s tunic. “We can’t do this,” he repeats as he pulls Fíli close to him, his lips only a few inches away from Fíli’s now. “We can’t—“

“Kíli,” Fíli whispers, his breath hot against his little brother’s lips. “I’m so sorry. I’m –“

Kíli’s lips press against Fíli’s, soft and gentle where Fíli’s were harsh and hungry. His hands hold his brother still, holding tighter and tighter to his tunic, before they flatten against Fíli’s chest, slowly pushing him down to the ground below them.

Kíli pulls away after what he swears is an eternity, trying to catch his breath in the muggy air around them, his body shivering despite the heat.

The light is gone from the world, leaving just the glow of the moon and stars above them.

“I’ve wanted nothing more than this, Fíli. For so long. We can’t do this if all you’re going to do is give me a taste and rip it from my mouth.”

Fíli swallows hard at his little brother’s words and pulls him close, his arms wrapped around his shoulders as he buries his face in his hair. “This is the only thing I want, Kíli. The only thing in a world of riches and promises laid out for me for the taking. You’re the only thing I want. And the only thing that I need. If you’ll have me,” Fíli adds with a tiny note of anxiety in his voice.

“You know no one can ever know,” Kíli whispers against his chest.

Fíli nods and gently pets his brother’s hair out of his eyes. “I’ll know. We’ll know. The stars above us can be our witness. You’re my One, Kíli. And that’s the only thing that matters.”

Kíli sucks in a breath. He simply nods, no longer trusting himself to speak. So he lets his body do it for him, leaning up to take Fíli’s lips in his own once more.

* * *

 

It’s under the stars and falling leaves that Fíli first claims Kíli as his, their bodies moving together in unison to the same rapid beat of their hearts.

The chilled autumn air does nothing to keep the sweat from trailing down Kíli’s back as he rolls his hips with the help of Fíli’s hands. His own press against his brother’s chest to keep himself steady, grounded, as Fíli’s heart beats in the same rhythm as the sound of his voice sighing his devotion.

_I love you, Kíli. I love you._

_You’re my One. Kee. Ekune._

_I love you._

* * *

 

Their last fight is under Kíli’s tree.

Fíli finds himself pushed up against it, like he had pushed Kíli up against his many, many years ago.

“How dare you ask Uncle not to take me with the company?!”

Fíli winces at Kíli’s rage. It stings more than the harsh winter wind that cuts around them. But what stings worse than both is the harsh slap to his face that leaves his mind spinning, reeling.

“You think I can just stay here? Wait to hear news from a raven about whether you lived or not? Just sit around here doing shit all while you fight for our home and our kingdom? While you put your life on the line? How could you fucking ask such a thing?”

Fíli’s head stays pressed to the side of the trunk. “I can’t watch you die,” Fíli whispers into the whistle of the wind.

“The fuck you can’t!” Kíli spits in his face, giving Fíli a hard shake. “I won’t let you go without me. You promised me you’d never leave me. You promised me right here. When you got better after you fell out of your tree. You promised me you would never leave me. Oh, Mahal, Fíli, please. I can’t. I can’t let you go and if you die. I want to die with you.”

With each passing word Kíli shrinks more and more, his head hanging low until it’s pressed into Fíli’s shoulder.

Fíli wraps his arms around Kíli’s body.

“I can’t lose you, Fee. I can’t be without you.” Kíli’s voice breaks and Fíli holds him tighter.  “I’ll follow you even if Thorin won’t let me go. I’ll follow you until the end.”

Fíli shuts his eyes, his hands tightening in Kíli’s coat.

“Until the end.”

* * *

 

They say their goodbyes to their friends and their mother, to their favorite tavern and their home.

When all is done, they come to stop outside in front of their trees, the leaves just beginning to sprout after a long winter. Kíli’s hand reaches out for Fíli’s, and Fíli doesn’t hesitate to take it.

“Do you think we’ll ever see them again?” Kíli asks, his voice barely audible.

Fíli shakes his head. “I doubt it. If we are successful in reclaiming Erebor, we probably won’t come back here. And if we aren’t…”

Kíli turns to Fíli. “Don’t talk like that, it’s bad luck,” he tells him with a big grin that belies the fear that quakes in his voice. Kíli turns back to the trees and watches the tiny leaves sway in the breeze.

Kíli’s tree is much taller than Fíli’s now, but Fíli’s is still far more thick and dense with foliage. But what Kíli loves best is how the thin branches of his own tree tangle with the thick ones of Fíli’s, just like their hands, always reaching out and seeking the warmth of the other’s. He sighs quietly and gives a sad smile.

“I just wish we could see them again, one day.”

Fíli glances over at Kíli’s face and steps towards Kíli’s tree. He roots around in the ground until he finds what he’s looking for, and walks over to his own tree to do the same.

He turns back towards Kíli and holds out two tiny acorns.

“I don’t know if they survived the winter, but if we survive the battle, we can plant them in Erebor. Outside the gates.”

Kíli’s eyes tear up and he chokes on his words he can’t even find.

“I love you, Fíli.” Kíli steps up to Fíli and takes his face in his hands, boldly kissing him under the tangled branches of their trees.

Fíli almost finds himself protesting, but he gives in and lets Kíli have this kiss, knowing it will be the last time they’ll ever be here together.

He empties the beads from one of his pouches and fills it with dirt to keep the acorns warm and protected. In the morning before the two of them are set to leave, Fíli stashes the pouch in a hidden pocket in his boot, just in case he should ever lose his coat and tunic.

Right before they leave, Fíli plucks a wildflower from the grass and hands it to Kíli, watching his eyes light up brighter than the early morning sun.

* * *

 

Fíli crawls towards Kíli on the battlefield, blood seeping through his armor. His hand reaches out for Kíli’s the same moment Kíli’s reaches out for his.

“Kíli you should have—“ Fíli coughs, the feeling making him dizzy, tired, weak. He knows. And he knows Kíli knows too.

“You promised, Fíli.”

Fíli blinks wearily and gives him a tiny nod, his hand squeezing Kíli’s tighter. “I promised I would never leave you alone. Shut your eyes, Kíli. Shut your eyes and when you get to the Halls of our father’s,” Fíli’s voice is fading now, growing farther away from Kíli when he does as he’s told and lets his eyes fall closed, “when you get there, Kee. I’ll be there too. Until the end?”

Kíli barely nods, his body too exhausted now. “Until the end.”

* * *

 

The news of her family’s deaths in the battle travels to Ered Luin long after the battle had been won. It’s with a heavy heart that the raven bears her news of her sons and brother. She feeds the raven and gives it a refuge for rest, caring gently for the weathered and tired wings of the animal.

Dís does not wish to return to Erebor with the majority of her people. She does not want to live in the mountains where her family is encased in the stone walls of the tombs. She does not want to live in the place that cursed her line and stole her sons and brothers, stole her father and forefathers, and would one day steal her too.

But she has no choice, just as Fíli and Kíli had none either.

A harsh winter takes the mountain that year, forcing them to delay their plans to return and Dís does not resent that as many of the other Dwarrow do. She would face an eternal winter before she would happily return to Erebor.

It takes another year before the first wave of their people are ready to set out to their reclaimed home. And she must go with them.

She doesn’t pack many things, unable to bear the thought of going into Fíli and Kíli’s shared room to take mementos of their lives, the thread cut short by the cruel axe of a war that they should have never had to fight in.

Dís takes one last look around the house that she had called home for so many years, the only place she had truly felt at peace in, despite the growing loss around her. Now it’s just as cold and broken as the home she will be returning to. A home she never really knew.

The sun shines down on the mountains of Ered Luin as she closes the door for the last time. Her eyes trace the beams of light to the two trees entwined with each other. The leaves are dry and brown, even though it’s late spring and they should be warm and green and vibrant.

Like her sons should be.

Like her life should be.

Their roots are bare and exposed in the dirt, unable to get what they need to continue to thrive in the harsh environment of the mountain.

The loss truly hits her hard in the chest as grief of a hundred years bubbles up through her stomach and wells in her eyes. Tears fall fast and track down her cheeks, disappearing in her beard as she slumps down into the shade of the dying trees.

Dís knew the trees were always too big for the world they lived in. Just like the lives that were mapped out for her sons. Always so much bigger than they could ever have been; fate always working against them.  And there was nothing that she could do to save the trees. Nothing she could do to save her sons.

And now she is all that is left of her line, all that is left in the world. Truly alone.

A leaf flutters down from the trees above, and Dís plucks it gently from the ground and presses it to her lips. It crackles in her hands and she slowly lays it down on the ground next to one of the tiny wildflowers Fíli used to braid in Kíli’s hair.

She rises from the dirt and wipes her face, standing tall and proud even when she feels the weight of everything crushing down on her like the mountain on the earth.

She knows her duty as a Durin will never be over, not until the day she returns to stone and laid to rest alongside her family in the halls of Erebor.

 

**Author's Note:**

> follow me on [tumblr](http://durinsprinces.tumblr.com/) y'all


End file.
